


Prelude To Getting Foot Fucked

by gravxrobbing



Category: Marilyn Manson - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:53:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26522461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravxrobbing/pseuds/gravxrobbing
Summary: Twiggy and Manson get a little too faded in Pogo and Gingers hotel room and decide their plan of action will be to bother a sleeping Zim
Kudos: 7





	Prelude To Getting Foot Fucked

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [This Little Piggy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5086729) by [Mustard_Fairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mustard_Fairy/pseuds/Mustard_Fairy). 



> This is purely a work of fiction ;)
> 
> also this is my first fic woohoo
> 
> (i’ve edited this like four times because i didn’t like it,,, you saw nothing)

Twiggy’s head lifted up swiftly from his cramped hunched position over the small hotel room table that had become home for the night to several different illegal substances. a half torn apart bible lay face down in a pile of blow. The pages half scattered around the room, half 9 stories down scattered across the boulevard below. Manson and Ginger giggling to themselves over some stupid joke that they found too funny. Mostly due to the three bowls of Zim’s weed they had packed and smoked while he was too busy slinking away to his room to notice or care.

Twiggy focused in on the room as his high wracked him like a ton of bricks, his attention turning to the fact the bands little effeminate guitarist was no longer accompanying Ginger on his spot on the bed farthest from Twiggy’s spot on his knees in front of the tiny, janky table. Stumbling to his feet like the newborn giraffe he currently felt and looked like, he slowly but surely made his way over to Manson on the floor. Throwing his legs into gear and sitting next to him with an audible thud on the carpeted hotel floor.  


Mansons arm stretched out and over and across Twiggy’s shoulders, pulling him in tight to place his lips against the bassists forehead “doing alright Twigs?”  
the singer asked softly while brushing up against the bassists cheek skillfully with his other hand.  
Twiggy had hummed something slurred and slow and along the lines of “mhmm” before turning his attention to the fact that his hand was now seemingly subconsciously making its way to Marilyn’s naked thigh. Finally touching down on the razor burned and scarred leg of the anti christ himself.  


“Where’s Zimmy?” Twiggy said softly as his mouth fell agape, looking up at Manson and waiting for the mans answer.  


“I’m not sure, why don’t we go find him?” Manson smirked his evil grin down at the cracked-out boy clung to his form at the waist.

Manson’s tight grip on Twiggy’s wrist was enough for the bassist to remember why he was out in the dreary, almost hospital-like sanitized hell of a hallway with the singer. He slipped the key into the door of Zim’s room with only slight difficulty despite feeling like he was about to blast off into nothingness at any second. That was funny, he thought, blasting off like a spaceship, maybe his head would detach and would fly away without his body. Twiggy giggled out loud about seemingly nothing at all, to Manson, as the heavy door swung open to reveal nothing but the pitch black abyss of the unlit room ahead and the faint sour smell of cigarettes.  


Manson lifted a finger to his lips as he looked at Twiggy, signifying the shorter to keep quiet. 

as the looming dark man navigated the wall for the light switch, the bassist, tried his luck at gnawing at the skin on Manson’s salty, sweat laced and makeup stained neck, like a desperate vampire. Manson making a low “ah” in the back of his throat, moaning in response to Twiggy’s advance.  


As soon as Manson’s fingers flicked the switch, his arm made its way around his best friends hip and dragged his thin form over to where an even smaller Zim was laying on the bed, face down, still in all of his clothes from the show they played just mere hours earlier. His body radiated a sort of aura in Twiggy’s blissed out, absolutely drugged out mind, almost as if he could see the heat coming off his aching body “mmm, Twiggy?” Zim started as he noticed movement around him, rolling over instead to be greeted by not only Twig’s but Manson as well in the overbearingly bright hotel room.  


“look who’s awake, Twiggy”  


Manson grinned all while leaning down over Zim, placing one hand on the mattress for support and the other running along and up from his ankle up to his ass with a possessive grasp.  
Zim had now pushed himself up onto his elbows, positioning himself to look over his shoulder. Now watching what the taller man had planned for him. “I- oh, what are you doing Mar?” he asked from under his incessant gaze.  


“Wanna have some fun?”  
Twiggy asked as innocently as he could while laying himself out on his side beside him. Slipping a slender finger under the hem of his dress and hiking the material up, and over the bone of his hip, drool threatening to spill out of the corner of his agape mouth.  


“We had fun before the show, do you guys ever get tired?” Zim slid himself back down onto his chest with his arms out in front of him, letting out a low moan as he stretched out his sore body, clearly tired.  
“And my feet hurt” he let out a small sigh in discontent as Manson’s lingering touch didn’t falter despite his complaints. His mind wandering back to hours before they were set to perform. In the tour bus the band and a few unfamiliar faces had all took their turns using him and Twiggy as personal cum dumps. not an uncommon event by any means, Zim was sure he had given more blowjobs on this one tour than he had ever given in his entire life, getting good at this point, but it still always left Zim exhausted, even before playing an hour and a half set.

“Come on, you know you want to”  
Twiggy’s voice slurred ever so slightly as he dragged a gentle hand over the small of the guitarists back, Zim mewling at the feeling of Twiggy’s fingers slipping under the tight waistband of his leather shorts. “Oh fine” Zim huffed out in defiance, slowly letting himself submit to their touch, pushing himself back up onto his elbows just to be flipped onto his back by Manson’s strong grip on the smaller man’s waist. “Off with these” Manson motioned for Zim to put his leg up into the air, pulling Zim’s foot up to his chest to untie the frayed loops on his worn down leather boots.

Manson’s hands made quick work of the laces on his boots. Pulling the threadbare and unraveled strings through the eyelets skillfully until the shoe was just loose enough for him to slip off the guitarists dainty foot.  


Spreading and stretching his toes to relieve the warm pulsing ache from standing all night, Zim looked up and made eye contact with the tall singer as a faint blush rose to his cheeks, even visible through the pale foundation applied to his face. “Thank you.” He smiled up at him.

Twiggy explored Zim’s body with his fingertips, tongue and teeth as Manson took his time pulling off the guitarists other boot.  
“you have such pretty feet, Zim” Manson glared sadistically down at him as he unhooked the clip from Zim’s stocking, slipping the material down his soft shaven legs.  


Twiggy’s mouth lingered hot over the fabric above Zim’s nipple, finding the mans soft noises amusing.  


“Stop teasing”  
Zim had finally given in, whining out and gripping a fistful of the bassists dreads, pushing his head down. As Twiggy’s opened mouth made contact with the sensitive skin of Zim’s newly pierced and tender nipple, Manson pulled the guitarists other stocking off and disregarded it to the floor. Zim let his hips rise and fall on their own, groping the air, searching for relief from the growing ache in his tight pleather shorts. “Come here Twigg’s” Manson’s dark voice almost boomed over the more timid men’s own as he lifted one of Zim’s large feet to his chin. Moving his face to place an opened mouth kiss to the ball of the guitarists foot, letting his warm breath linger before placing his tongue flat to where he had just kissed.

Twiggy sat up and looked at the singer before taking the hint to stand, not even having to be told to bend over the foot of the bed. Twiggy’s nose and mouth making contact with the plasticky textured feeling of the strained fabric covering Zim’s crotch.  


Helping Twiggy by sliding down the zipper on the front of his shorts until his hard cock sprung up against the bassists lips, Zim let his eyes wonder over Twiggy’s face as they made eye contact, blush still burning hot across Zim’s cheeks.  


“Good boy” Manson planted a soft slap to Twiggy’s ass as he ran his tongue over the smooth skin on the bottom Zim’s foot. Licking up to his toes where he wrapped his lips around the first three digits and circled his tongue around them gently.  


“Twiggy please, no more teasing”  
Zim whined, sounding like a pouting child. Bucking his hips up into the bassists parted mouth, making Twiggy take him down farther with an audible gag.

The room was hot and humid as the three forms moved like what resembled a broken art project atop the cheap hotel sheets. Manson taking Twiggy’s presented ass in a rough grasp as his tongue explored every inch of Zim’s soft toes. Pulling Twiggy up and off of Zim with a whine of protest from the small guitarist. Manson let Zim’s foot back down onto the bed. Instead then turning his attention to putting his hand up Twiggy’s dress, groping his hard dick through the sheer material.  
“your turn Twiggy”  


Manson spoke in his usual deep and dark voice. looping a finger into the waistband of Twiggy’s tights and letting his cock spring free. Zim’s face flushed red as he got the idea to get up and spin himself around, laying on his back with his face beneath the bassists groin.

Manson’s fingers worked into Twiggy lazily as Zim teased his balls with his open mouth. The tall singer taking himself out from his lace thong before slipping Twiggy’s dress up and over his head, throwing it with Zim’s stockings. “Bend over, whore” Marilyn shoved Twiggy with a firm hand on his back, teasing his entrance with the tip of his cock.  


“I’m not a whore” Twiggy bit his lip, Zim getting a face full of penis as he leaned his head off the end of the bed. Taking Twiggy’s cock between his pouted lips as Manson pushed his own into the overstimulated bassist. “Please, more” He couldn’t decide wether to push himself back onto Manson. Or fuck poor Zim’s mouth. His mind being made up for him when the singer pressed himself down against him. Forcing Zim to hollow his cheeks and relax his throat, swallowing around the bassist as drool dripped from the corners of his mouth. The prick of tears threatening to spill from his eyeliner coated eyes. 

Marilyn picked up a slow pace at first, going easy on the two. Hips, face and headboard all coming crashing together as he gave up on sparing the absolutely wrecked men below him. Zim gagging from time to time, more or less used to this treatment by now. Twiggy trying his damndest not to let his own legs fail him, weak in the knees as he felt like he could almost let everything go then and there.  


“Is that good?”  
Manson gripped Twiggy by a handful of dreads, yanking his head back as his hips mercilessly drilled into his bassists. Teeth and lips making their way to his neck to bruise a crimson mark into the hot skin. While Manson’s movement’s became shorter and harder, Zim was forced to place his hands against Twiggy’s thighs for mercy. Feeling the hot tingle of blood rushing to his head from the position he was being face fucked in.

“I’m gonna!-“  
Twiggy’s hips jerked as he came, his vision going white, feeling Zim swallow hard and sputter with a cough around him. Manson pulled out and reached a hand down to jerk himself off, coming over Twiggy’s ass as he moaned in the back of his throat.  


Zim flipped himself over onto his stomach and pulled his body up onto the bed to sit, mouth agape. Spit, cum, tears and makeup running down his face, breathing heavy like he had just ran a marathon.  


“Get on the bed”  
Manson shoved Twiggy down where Zim had just been laying, pulling the guitarist up to switch places. Zim hooking his hands under his mesh shirt and pulling it up and over his head.  


Twiggy laid out on his back, facing the guitarist and singer as they stood there.  
“Take your boots off” Zim spoke up for himself the first time that night. Feeling the tall man behind him wrap his arms around his frame to examine his chest with heavy hands. Zim letting out a noise of impatience as he waited for Twiggy. 

The bassist laid back after successfully removing his heavy leather boots, running his toes over Zim’s stomach teasingly.  


Manson slipped Zim free of his tight shorts, pulling them down over his hips and letting them drop to the floor. “Please” Zim pleaded with his eyes, looking down at Twiggy as the bassist tickled his stomach with his stocking clad feet.  


Twiggy ran his foot down to tease Zim’s balls gently, using the other to work his shaft with the ball of his foot. Zim thrusting against the feeling of Twiggy’s warm foot against his cock.  


“Fuck, like that”  


He rocked his hips in time with Twiggy’s motions as Manson slipped away to search for something in Zim’s bag. Twiggy drew his foot up and stroked the guitarists cock with both of his feet, feeling as Zim’s erection dampened his stockings with pre-cum.  


Zim, in pure bliss didn’t notice Manson slip back behind him until he felt the mans large hand on his hip, pushing his torso over, feeling the familiar feeling of lube slick fingers on his ass.

The singer craned his neck forward to spit down over his hand, slowly pushing two tattooed digits in to the second knuckle, pressing down experimentally in search of Zim’s weak spot.  


Zim’s hips instinctively rolled forward from the feeling, his head spinning as he let out soft “ah’s” in time with the fingers thrusting into him. In pure ecstasy, his eyes rolled back, weak in the knees from the pleasure as he came. Spilling himself onto Twiggy’s legs and feet with a strangled groan.  


“ah, fuck!.. that’s good...”  
Zim’s hands found their way to wrap over his stomach, nails digging into his own flesh. Twiggy riding out his high by rubbing his balls with the top of his foot. His own high feeling heightened from the cool down of his own sexual pleasure. 

“You ruined my socks”  
Twiggy pouted was he pulled his feet away, looking up at Zim with big puppy eyes.  


“It’s okay Twig’s I’ll get you new ones” Zim smiled down at him as he picked up one of Twiggy’s legs, pulling the nylon off.  


Feeling that heavy feeling of tiredness, once again, zim laid down next to Twiggy, pulling the bassist in for a hug, Manson laying down beside the two, wrapping an arm over Twiggy’s hip.

“I didn’t know you were into feet”


End file.
